Everyone Has Secrets
by Slytherclaw96
Summary: A whole bunch of characters on a whole slew of flaws, things they wish they had did or just telling what they've never told another. Includes: Snape/Lily, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James/Lily/Snape, Regulus and Sirius, brotherly. T: Crucio and shouting.
1. The Same Crush

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, never have, never will.

All of these are for the **Skeletons in the closet** challenge on HPFC forum. The things in bold are the prompts. Have fun!

**Summery: **I'm not telling you who's who but you'll figure that out by the end. :)

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_**I still have the same crush I did in first year. I feel pathetic for holding on this long.  
I really want to talk to her again but she probably won't even remember who I am.**_

**__****\ \ / /**

It wasn't just a crush and I was stupid to try and make it out to be a worthless, throwaway feeling I had for an older girl. I don't think it ever was. Well, yes she's older—two years, actually. But she was never the sort of girl that I could doodle across the Great Hall or etch her initials into parchment until the quill broke through. She was more important than that, and I felt stupid for trying to.

I met in her in my first year on the Hogwarts Express. Many friendships are made that way, I suppose. I asked if I could sit in the empty seat beside her, and she looked at me with large green eyes and said, "Sure. Why not?"

I hate the word "love", mostly because it's so overused, but I realised in my third year that I actually did love her and nothing changed. I still found myself staring at her long, thick, dark hair and laughing when she yelled at Potter and Black when they ran out from the Forbidden Forest, screaming about giant spiders, Snape hot on their heels, fighting a curse; I watched from Herbology and Professor Grass nearly shouted at me for nearly killing the Venomous Tantacular. It was worth it.

But, after that one train ride, she never noticed me again. She didn't smile when I said hello in the corridors; I never heard her argue with me about my love of the Dark Arts, like I knew Snape did. She never cared, she never looked at me. I don't think she even knew I existed.

We were in different years and different houses, so I didn't get to see her very often but when I did a loud fight broke out in my head, debating whether I could summon enough courage to go and talk to her. I never could.

I did, however, congratulate her on her OWL results and NEWT, both of which allowed her to become an Auror. She looked at me as though I wasn't there and said, "Thanks, who're you again?" I just smiled and shook my head, trying to get her out of my head when she scurried back to the Marauders.

Over the many years that followed, I grew to hate non-supporters of the Dark Lord and even most of the unfaithful scum he allowed to be called "Death Eaters" with a murderous venom. I distantly heard she became an Auror with her husband and that they had a child, and that they all went into hiding about some prophecy. I really wanted to go and talk to her again; she was a pure-blood (obviously) and could still make the right decision. But I don't even think she remembers who I am and if she does, it's because of my father and that's not exactly what I want.

So, yes, I can say it as I'm breaking down her door, as I'm drawing my wand, as I feel one of my grins come to my face at her terrified expression, as my fellow loyal Death Eater crowd around the couple and as her eyes loose all awareness as I cast the curse, I still have the same crush I've had since first year. I feel pathetic for holding on so long but now she'll never be able to bother me ever again.

"Is this meant to happen?" I ask Bellatrix as I circle the huddled form on the floor.

"I don't think—" But she never makes it any farther, as Frank's yells almost make everyone's ears bleed.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS, BARTY?"

"Easily._ Crucio!"_

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**Like it? I know it's a tad short but the last one is much longer. **


	2. Five Years Old

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, never have, never will.

All of these are for the **Skeletons in the closet** challenge on HPFC forum. The things in bold are the prompts. Have fun!

**Summery: **Regulus Black reflects on the days long gone, when his cousins, his brother and himself all got along like families should. The "Doggy" reference is to Sirius's first name. I imagine all the Blacks know which names are from which constellations.

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_**I wish I could be five years old again and be completely  
oblivious to all the bad things in the world.**_

_******\ \ / /**  
_

"Ninety-nine... one hundred!" shouted Sirius. "Ready or not—"

"We know, Doggy, hurry up!" shouted a girl's voice that sounded suspiciously like Bella.

"Okay, who's all playing?" asked Sirius, frustrated. Regulus could just imagine him with his hands on his hips, glaring in the drawing room, and giggled.

Then Bella again, annoyed: "Cissy, Andy, Reg, me and you."

"_You're _playing?" shouted Sirius, his thumping footsteps on the staircase.

"'Course I am!" came Bella's indignant voice.

"Then shut up, you lunatic, he'll find you!" Andy's laughing voice broke through.

"You had to point that out, didn't you?" Sirius again, disappointed this time.

Regulus shifted his position, trying not to breath. He was in Sirius's bedroom, hiding behind the door. Regulus didn't care about winning Hide-and-Seek, he cared about making his older brother jump two feet in the air and when you're four-foot tall, that's not a mean feat, but one Regulus took up with a grin.

"Well, someone had to," Cissy said. "You'd never—"

"Shut it," said Bella. "Right, Andy?"

Narcissa and Andromeda kept quiet after that. A good thing about playing Hide-and-Seek in number twelve was that the house was huge, both magically and normally, and it took over an hour if Sirius was Seeker since he was never very observant.

Regulus heard him move away from his bedroom and down the steps again after opening and slamming all the doors. Regulus had to stop himself from giggling again as he heard Sirius's creative and colourful choice words for their cousins—among them, "Mudblood" and "scum". Regulus suddenly frowned: he realized that neither he nor his brother had actually been told what those words meant, just that they were serious. He grinned. Sirius—serious. Ha, ha, ha.

He had an idea, again. Regulus's grin widened as he peeked into the empty hall. There was a shriek of surprise that was almost surely from Cissy: one down, three to go. Sirius would soon be back in his room and Regulus decided he wanted to win this one. Terror raced through him, strong and burning, as he crept from his brother's room and (careful to jump the creaky step) darted into the boiler room off the kitchen. He opened the hatch carefully and crawled in.

Kreacher's house was a place Regulus had been in several times before. He thought it was very cozy with the soft, thick blankets and warmth behind him. He pulled the largest over his head and curled into a little ball.

Another half hour passed and Regulus heard some more angry cursing from Sirius, and another shout of surprise from one of the girls (Andy, he thought), leaving only Bella and Regulus in hiding. More angry cursing followed as minutes drifted by. Regulus took a deep breath; it was very nice and comfy down here. Maybe he could just drift off...

"FOUND HIM!"

Regulus jolted awake—when had he been sleeping?—and looked into the triumphant face of his older brother, who was holding the blanket Regulus had hid himself with.

"I was sleeping," complained Regulus, tugging it back and rolling over.

"We finished hours ago. Mum was going to kill me more painfully than normal." Sirius shook him and put on a high-pitched voice. _"'It's your fault that Reggie got lost! No supper until you find our son!'"_

"You're their son, too," muttered Regulus, sitting up and banging his head on the metal door as he crawled out.

Sirius smirked.

"Did they really say that?" asked Regulus quietly.

Sirius swung an arm around his brother. "Maybe with you, Mum won't dare throw hexes at me. Time you grow up, Regs," he added, mussing his hair.

_Time you grow up..._ Regulus had never forgotten those words. Now, he was sitting in the very kitchen his brother had used him as a human shield, this time alone since his parents were gone out somewhere—to Narcissa's, he thought, for her marriage after-party—reception, that's what it was called, right? Regulus neither knew or cared, all he knew was that he left it after twenty minutes.

He got up and started to pace back and forth in the kitchen, talking aloud to himself. There were very few times he could exercise the habit so he took every advantage he could.

"The Dark Lord said, 'Beyond any other wizard's quest for immortality I have gone and I have succeeded.' Those were his exact words—his _exact words_. But, then—immortality first: unicorn blood, but the Dark Lord would never risk that curse, he's not _that_ sure of himself; then there's the Philosopher's Stone but people'd know if he stole it; and the Horcrux. Horcruxes hide part of a Dark wizard's soul, should they wish to split it, but—" Regulus stopped and looked out the window, his hands grasping his head. "Of course: murder. He'll killed too many times to—"

He had been about to say, "to count" but then Regulus caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass window. The Dark Lord, always prepared to kill, always gleeful to torture, prepared to send out an all-powerful spell (if one existed) if it rid the world of all Muggles and Mudbloods but—

"That's millions," said Regulus aloud. "Billions. No matter what they are that's not... He couldn't possibly..." But Regulus knew the Dark Lord could, and would and would have the time of his life doing it. A deep, dark chill went through him.

Almost unconsciously, Regulus pulled up his left sleeve and looked at the snake and skull, swirling and twisting benignly. When he had first told Sirius he was a Death Eater, the last thing he had said to him was, "Take a proper look at yourself, then tell me you're proud of what you're doing!" He slammed the door.

Regulus had just taken the proper look and it was terrifying him. He was actually shaking with fear and disgust. Regulus regretted every instant, every second he had obeyed the maniac's orders. He felt like he could cry with what he had given up. He hadn't just surrendered the innocence he wanted to keep, but his brother's respect.

But he could make it right.

Regulus took his head out of his hands and sat down at the table.

"Kreacher," he called softly into the empty room.

A _crack_ later and the house-elf was in front of Regulus.

"You remember when I was five years old and the worst I thought could happen to me was being caught by Sirius in Hide-and-Seek?" Regulus refused to look at Kreacher but heard his mutterings of confusion. "Well, I wish I could go back," whispered Regulus, "to a time when there was nothing bad in the world and I knew nothing of the oncoming war." He let out a deep breath and sat back. "I'm going to die today and I need you to help me."

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_**Technically, what Regulus did was suicide and I know this isn't exactly DH compliant but it's close enough. What do ya think?**_


	3. Marriage

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, never have, never will.

All of these are for the **Skeletons in the closet** challenge on HPFC forum. The things in bold are the prompts. Have fun!

**Summery: **Sirius Black remembers the one girl he dated who he loved.

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I tell everyone I want to be single, and that I love it. But in all sincerity, I just want to find love. I want to find it, and keep it, and be happy. I secretly imagine what it's like to be married, I know it will never happen. But it's nice to dream, right?_**

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I was always known as the "playboy". It was some Muggle term Evans screeched at me one time when she caught me snogging her friend Mary in third year; I didn't think it was very complimentary but, with everyone else, it stuck when they heard her voice ring up and down the Grand Staircase. To this day, I don't even know what it means but I'm guessing that it has something to do with being with a lot of girls, which, admittedly, I was pretty well-known for.

But there was one that I thought differently about. I'd love to go and see her again but I'd really doubt she'd remember who I am. Anyways, her name was Cassandra Ignatius and I was with her for most of my sixth year. I honestly cared a lot for her; I loved spending time with her. That just made it so much harder when I found her in the Room of Requirement making out with some Ravenclaw idiot. I drew my wand, threw a good, Snivellus-worthy hex at her and punched him in the face before running out. I never properly saw another girl after that, mostly because I think that whatever I had with Cassandra was what dating was meant to be like—punching and hexing break-up included.

Everyone always thought that I loved being single but I hate it. I lie through my teeth to James and the lot, the girls who look so admiringly at me and even my arrogant, sneering snake of a brother. I tell them all that being a bachelor is the best thing; they should try it sometime. I think that, of all of them, it was Regulus who thought I was lying: he knew me for all his life, after all; he knew when something was wrong and when I was lying. But he never said a word, just smiling and saying, "Whatever. If you say so."

But, to be completely honest, I just want to find love. I didn't realize it as I saw Cassandra the next day, smirking in a self-satisfied way that made me want to hex her again, while my eyes were bloodshot (I had never had a girl, much less one I really cared about, cheat on me before), nor when I saw James and Lily together for the first time. It was at their wedding, as I watched them from the sidelines with a smiling but irritable and resentful Remus who, no doubt, was thinking that he could never get married because of his wolfenness as I liked to call it (James always preferred "furry little problem" and Peter referred to it as his "time of the month". Yes, Remus got some _very_ odd looks at school), Lily and James danced, oblivious to the world. Death Eaters might've invaded the party and I doubted they would do anything except smile and keep dancing.

There was an identical look on their faces that I had never seen before but thought I ought to recognise. It wasn't happiness (although that was there), it wasn't joy (but that had its place, too), but love. And I realised with a jolt that I hadn't ever seen someone look at me like that: not my parents, nor my cousins, nor any girl I had ever gone out with. I thought Regulus might've when we were younger but I doubted it. James and Lily truly loved each other and I thought, as I also realized that my wedding present would be to make good on a fifty Galleon bet, that I wanted that. Love. Anyway I could with any_one_ I could. I wanted to find it and keep it and just... be happy with it. The Marauders, yeah, they're awesome, they're all my brothers and although I think I love them, too, it's not the same.

Many times after that wedding day I would lie awake at night or stare at a blank wall and wonder what it was like to be married, fantasise about it with a faceless witch with dark hair come up the aisle with an equally faceless father on her arm. I think of waking up to the same face for every day of my life, of growing old with people other than the Marauders (which consequently includes Lily) and having children, grandchildren, and seeing them off to Hogwarts while Peter, Remus and James all have their own, all of them being in the same year for another generation of Marauders. But I know that none of that will ever happen—but it always leaves me with a good feeling because there's no harm in dreaming, right?

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_Reckless and brave Sirius might be, who says he never wanted anything more than a family? Especially after watching James and Lily get together, get married and have a child?_

_Like, no like?_


	4. True Love Doesn't Exist

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, never have, never will.

All of these are for the **Skeletons in the closet** challenge on HPFC forum. The things in bold are the prompts. Have fun!

**Summery: **Severus and Lily discuss true love.

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**_I've loved her since she first told me that true love didn't exist._**

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I never really thought I loved her. Never. Not even after she died and I did everything in my power (and many things not) to protect her son. Because, after all, one loves a mother, a friend, a brother—I was _in love_ with her. I had fallen for her much harder, I think, that either of us ever anticipated happening. Most people who had friends of the opposite gender before Hogwarts often wonder if getting together is the next step, it wasn't as though we had never thought about it or even talked about it, because we did, it was more like there are two answers to the wonderings: "maybe" or a pause, which will always turn into yes; or a violent, firm "no" which will never change. So it became quite awkward for me when I had frowned at her question and pretended not to have heard it.

"Sev?" she asked again.

"What?" I asked, determined not to look her in the eye.

Lily sighed. "Alice and Frank got together; they've been friends for years. Isn't that so strange?"

I shrugged. "Sometimes it works." I tried to not make my words sound like a promise but Lily's tone became one of surprise.

"You think it could ever work for us? Sev?" she added, her voice a little sharper.

"Doubt it," I answered. "But—hey, maybe."

She shook her head and smiled. "Maybe." Now, though, I can tell that she was lying. "That's a bit too soul-mate-y for me, though," she added thoughtfully. "You believe in that rubbish?"

"Huh?" I asked. This time I really hadn't been paying attention.

She groaned. "Soul-mates and true love, you know? Do you believe in that sort of stuff?"

I shrugged again. "Doubt it," I said again. I could tell I was annoying her now.

"Well, I think true love doesn't exist," she said, somewhat haughtily.

I grinned. "Obviously. If you did, you and Potter would be all over each other."

"What?" she snapped, her voice much higher and shriller. "You think he's my true love?"

My grin widened. "No, but he clearly thinks you're his and there can't be a true-love-triangle—it'd never work."

Lily calmed. "Good. Because true love doesn't exist," she repeated, as though trying to convince herself now. "Shall we go? Defence OWL must be starting soon."

We both left our places in the summer grass and headed towards the Great Hall, unaware that that would be the last time we spoke and I had never been more wrong, save for the time I called her a Mudblood.

Odd, isn't it, that my largest misspeaks both happen in one day? Because after that, I knew I was in love with her, and after The Mistake, I had never more furiously rebelled against the use of that term.

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**This one I really like. No idea why. **

**What do you think?**


	5. Hold His Hand

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, never have, never will.

All of these are for the **Skeletons in the closet** challenge on HPFC forum. The things in bold are the prompts. Have fun!

**Summery: **Severus watches James and Lily from afar.

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**_You'll never know that when I saw you holding his hand  
_****_I went to my dormitory and cried for hours._**

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The summer before my seventh year something happened to Potter. Rumours circled that he was pulled in to a hearing before the Wizenagamot for trying to kill a Death Eater. I finally heard Black say to Lupin, "I can't stay at James's anymore. No more parents. But I, at least, can get somewhere else. Poor Prongs, though, he can't move from Potter Manor."

James Potter's parents had died. There was a very noticeable difference in him: he was quieter, more serious, more studious, kinder, more mature, and spent a lot less time hexing first years about and hanging me in the air by the ankle. I actually went four months without the blood rushing spectacularly to my head; Black remembered then that I was still alive after I threw a marvellous Toenail Curse at Potter.

I slowly saw Lily start to warm up to Potter. She would first talk to him quietly; I knew her parents weren't in the best of health either. Then the comforting would soon be accompanied by touching his hand or smiling that special smile she used to have for me. I watched them from the opposite end of the Great Hall when we were both studying in the daylight of the ceiling instead of brave the freezing or scalding temperatures. Many times, they sat much closer than was necessary and once Potter "accidentally" brushed her throat with his lips when she bent over a Potions book. I saw her blush and move away to the other Marauders, who were also taking after their leader and finally growing up. I didn't even notice I had set my cloak on fire until Regulus put it out. I was shaking slightly but managed to control myself. I might not be the master of holding onto friends or the Dark Arts but I could always control myself.

Lily and Potter stood; I jumped up after them taking my textbook. I had no idea why I was being so masochistic but I had to know. It would be better than hearing the rumours that Lily Evans had finally given in. Potter and Lily, though, were going outside in the steadily climbing heat. I started to tremble; there was no one else here. I heard Lily laugh and saw them settle down under a tree near the lake. I sat in the shadow of some bushes not too far away, the better to hear. I opened my textbook and didn't even glance at the upside down page. My heart was pounding in my throat. My insides started to wriggle and squirm.

Potter smirked, as though he knew I was there and stood up again. He offered his hand. Lily took it.

Just a minute ago I felt my heart in my throat, now there didn't appear to be any heart whatsoever. My insides, too, might have been the unfortunate target of a Vanishing Spell.

I jumped up and started to follow them again. Potter let go of Lily's hand and put his arm around her waist. No protesting. No fast spellwork to have him flat on his back. Lily laughed again and inclined her head slightly as though to lean it on his shoulder. Potter turned his head back at me and smirked, mouthing, _"Mine."_

I couldn't move. I was frozen. My heart had returned now and it was beating faster than ever, so that I thought it might break free from my chest. I knew Lily and I would never happen but I had still wished that one day I might summon the courage to tell her I loved her. If she was _with_ Potter—_happy_ with Potter I couldn't do anything. I'd rather she be happy with an arrogant bastard who cared about her in his own twisted way than with me if she didn't want me. But right then, I knew that it would make no difference if I told her or not.

My limbs gave out as Potter stopped them and turned so that I could see perfectly and moved in to kiss her. I saw it sideways, as I was laying on the ground. Lily smiled and leant forwards, meeting his lips. After a few seconds—or was it several heart-wrenching minutes?—could it have been many cold hours?—or even countless agonising days?—they broke apart.

Tears came. I knew they were inevitable but I had hoped to avoid them. I started to sob, my hands clawing at the grass.

I don't know how much time passed but I stood up and went back to my empty dormitory. Everyone was still studying in the library, common room or Great Hall. I fell on my bed and just lay there, sobs still wracking my body and tears drenching my pillow, for a very long time. Mulciber's magic alarm clock told me that three hours had passed when I finally wiped my eyes.

With shaking hands, I threw open my trunk and pulled out a notebook. It was just a Muggle one, pen included, but I tapped it with my wand and the backmost pages filled with black-inked words. A very long list, it was called _What Lily'll Never Know._

I added one more:

_56. You'll never know that when I saw you kiss him and hold his hand I went to my dormitory and cried for hours._

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**This one I really like, too, but I think I made Severus Snape a little too sentimental but I don't think he's got much to do. What about you?**


	6. Pride

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, never have, never will.

All of these are for the **Skeletons in the closet** challenge on HPFC forum. The things in bold are the prompts. Have fun!

**Summery: **My newly favourite character, Regulus Black, remembers the night his brother left home for good and they were firmly cemented on opposite sides.

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**_I just want you to be proud of me for once._**

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Regulus was so used to getting everything he wanted. Since Sirius asked when he was seven what was so bad about Muggles, Regulus had been the favourite and Sirius shoved to the side of the family photo, a spot he grew to love. Regulus secretly hated being the favourite; he was the only "acceptable" boy in his generation, just a whole lot of girls and Sirius.

Regulus, then, got everything he ever wanted by any means he wanted. Books, clothes, broomsticks—whatever he fancied. But Regulus never wanted any material things. More often than not, he had asked Sirius what he wanted and then gotten their parents to buy it and Regulus had given it to his brother.

No one ever knew that what Regulus wanted more than anything in the world was Sirius to be proud of him.

But all hope of that died when Regulus had come back from a "family meeting", shaking and scared. Bella had wanted to take him to the Dark Lord to get the Mark. Regulus hadn't wanted anything of the sort but he was scared, he took it out of fear for himself, for his family. He had just fallen on his bed and noticed the newspaper clippings now adorning his wall. He recognised them as Bella's old ones and was about to tear them down when a cold voice spoke from behind him.

"Change of heart?"

"Don't talk rubbish," Regulus said instantly, still trying to tug the clippings off his walls. "It was just Bella's idea of a joke."

"Hmm," was all Sirius said. Regulus heard his footsteps and was spun around by his left arm. Sirius was livid. Regulus had never seen him so furious. "This too?" he asked, shaking Regulus's arm where the Dark Mark burned.

Summoning all the courage he thought he had, Regulus said, "Actually, yes. She took me—not of my own free will, might I add—to the Dark—Voldemort." It hurt to say his name but Regulus thought it best to play on Sirius's terms.

Sirius threw his arm back so hard that Regulus stumbled against the wall. "After everything I told you—everything I thought I made right—" Sirius was, Regulus saw with horror, scared. He was crying. Big brothers aren't meant to get scared or cry. "_I_ was the one who was meant to be you—the favourite son, the eldest. If I hadn't spoken out so early, kept my silence, I would've managed to get both of us outta here without a fight or Marks." He started to shake. "But I've failed. I thought that, maybe, just maybe, I could make sure you didn't get on the wrong side. I took Moony's advice, Prongs's—"

"That's the problem," Regulus said quietly.

Sirius looked confused and stopped shaking slightly, although tears still flowed. "Moony's damned smart. He gives good—"

"You haven't paid any attention to me since you met those Marauders," said Regulus. Now it was he who shook and was close to tears. He didn't care about driving away his brother; Sirius needed to know. "You didn't ask if I was excited about Hogwarts, what house I was going to be in—it was just Prongs this, Wormtail that. You never cared about me since you met them. I get that they're your first friends and all that, but I would've thought your little brother, who, you said, you were trying to assist with sides to choose in a war, would be so much more important."

Sirius looked horrified now. He shook worse than ever and tears, no matter how many times he wiped his eyes furiously, continued. "That's not true. I might—the Marauders are the closest thing I've got to a family. I was actually going to tell you this: I'm running away and I'm not coming back."

Regulus fell on his bed again. This time, his legs gave out. "I—What?"

"I'm going to James's and I'm not coming back," said Sirius, slowly and clearly. "Even as a Death Eater you aren't a lost cause. Dumbledore'll know what to do; you can stay in hiding, you can—I dunno—become a spy. We might be at war but it's not white and black. Mother and Father and Bellatrix might've threatened you, Crucioed you, or whatever to get you to take _that_ but you didn't of your free will. I know that much."

Regulus couldn't make his throat work. He wanted to get out just a few words. He tried, "Ta—Goodbye, Sirius," but he couldn't make him ask to be taken, too.

Sirius nodded sadly as though he had expected the answer and left. Regulus heard him throwing things into his trunk and then thundering back downstairs. Then their mother's shrieks and Sirius's returning yells.

"YOU CAN'T RUN AWAY, SHAME OF MY FLESH!"

"GO TO HELL, YOU MAD OLD BAT!"

Things breaking and a few spells being shot off. The door slammed.

Regulus stared at the cracked ceiling, with only the Dark Mark and Voldemort's newspaper headlines for company, he began to cry.

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Two years later, Regulus remembers that night in perfect clarity.

Kreacher whimpered beside him as the false locket dangled from his hand. "Please, Master Regulus—"

"You have your orders," said Regulus with uncharacteristic harshness as he picked up the goblet for the ninth time. The floor swam in front of him, his insides burning, what he saw changed: Sirius's outrage and screams when Regulus told him he had to stay a Death Eater. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen.

Regulus collapsed. He had relived his nightmares often enough to endure them during the day but the pain got to him. The fifteenth was forced down his throat. As was the sixteenth.

Regulus dimly heard the clinking of metal on rock and knew the basin was emptied, the locket secured. A loud _crack_ told him that Kreacher was gone. Regulus leaned against the pedestal the basin stood on and let his eyes drift shut. He looked at the water and thought, _Might as well get this over with._ He took a drink and felt a hand grab him.

He didn't fight.

He didn't struggle.

But just before his head went under the icy water, Regulus remembered that he always wanted some famous last words and, given what he did, he thought he earned them. "I just wanted you to be proud of me once, Sirius," he whispered to the water. "Now you are," he said in the water but large bubbles just came out. He closed his eyes as he let fear and icy blackness overtake him. _Wish you knew, though,_ he added in his mind as his head swam with spots as he lost air.

Sirius never would.

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This one I'm much prouder of. I like it quite a lot. What do you lot think?**


	7. Needles and Matches

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, never have, never will.

All of these are for the **Skeletons in the closet** challenge on HPFC forum. The things in bold are the prompts. Have fun!

**Summery: **Remus Lupin, the first year, falls in with the Marauders.

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**_Just once, I want someone to like me back. That's all I need._**

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"Mr. Lupin, Mr. Black," called Professor McGonagall.

Remus paled a little but moved his stuff to Black's table. Why, oh why did Lily have to skip class? It was only November but Remus had been pleased that she had offered to be his partner for Transfiguration and Charms—a little guilty as she kept catching his eye in Defence Against the Dark Arts while Professor Nyx talked about werewolves, but pleased. After all, her and that black-haired boy, Snape, had run into his empty compartment with steam practically coming from her ears.

No one else in his house, let alone his roommates, was being particularly friendly and Remus liked it that way. When they found out what he was, they'd run away. Better to avoid the whole messy business.

"Hey, Lupin," said Black as he settled down. "Where's that little redhead?"

Remus shrugged and pulled out his wand. "So—that spell?"

"Yeah, yeah," muttered Black darkly as he prodded his matchstick, saying the incantation. Remus sighed and attempted to turn his own matchstick into a needle. Nothing happened for twenty minutes but then Black cried out in joy, "Professor, I got it!" holding up his needle.

Professor McGonagall looked so astonished that Remus stifled a laugh. Black winked at him as she took the needle and began to show the class the perfect way that he had done it.

Black leaned across the table and, barely suppressing his own laughter, whispered, "I didn't do it." He showed his closed hand from under the table and opened it: a slightly bent, completely wooden matchstick was in his palm. "Ravenclaws told me what was coming."

Remus laughed aloud at this.

"Let's see you do it, then, Mr. Lupin," snapped Professor McGonagall, spinning around.

Remus felt his eyes go wide but tried once more. To his, Black's and Professor McGonagall's shock, it turned silver and pointed.

"Incredible," said Professor McGonagall, holding up Remus's needle. Remus stared at the spot on his table where it had been.

"I'd say," said a dumbstruck Black. "James Potter and I're gonna do a little exploring after classes today, like to come?" he asked, in a much different tone.

Remus's eyebrows shot up. Him—a werewolf—going exploring in Hogwarts School? The honest answer was "Hell, yes," but Remus wasn't sure if he could risk friends. He wanted them very much, desperately, but he knew of the Blacks and how this one would think of him once his condition was let out of the box.

"I'm nothing like my family," said Black quickly, as though he had guessed what Remus was thinking. Did Remus hear a bit of remorse? "I'm Sirius," he added, holding out his hand.

"Remus," he said, shaking the other boy's hand.

"Right, meet me and James—that's the boy with _really_ messy black hair and a Snitch flying about his head—in the common room. We've got—er—a way to stop Filch from seeing us." Sirius smirked in a very self-satisfied way.

The bell rang, making everyone jump.

"See you later, Lupin," said Sirius, picking up his bag and joining someone who could only be James Potter at the door; he took out a little golden ball from his pocket and it began to fly around him.

Remus stayed there for another minute, wondering. Did he just make his first friend? He didn't know but as he left class he felt a swooping happiness stronger than anything he had ever felt, and he really doubted it was because of the matchstick.

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**I took the idea for the class from PS, it says that Hermione was the only one who made any sort of difference to the match. So, I'm thinking Lupin's like Hermione, and Sirius and James are Super!Hermione, judging from the way their ex-teachers talked about "the most talented students in school".**


	8. The Yule Ball

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, never have, never will.

All of these are for the **Skeletons in the closet** challenge on HPFC forum. The things in bold are the prompts. Have fun!

**Summery: **Severus starts to see Lily in a different way and gets the awkward feeling we all get while we sit on the sidelines with someone we like while a slow song plays.

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**_Sometimes I wish I had the guts to actually do it._**

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It was Christmas, the Yule Ball, in fact. Although Severus thought Dumbledore would soon discontinue the annual Ball since the Marauders had taken advantage of Pettigrew being on the decorating committee and put tasteless, odourless, undetectable pure alcohol in all the drinks every year—not that the students minded, of course—so they were rather loud affairs. Professor McGonagall grabbing the magical microphone and singing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" was the best part of the night. But she only did that once.

It was now their fifth year and Severus thought the annual Ball wouldn't last until he graduated. He always walked in with Lily so close to him that their hands kept brushing; he always wore his second-hand dress robes which were dusty and slightly mouldy-looking, but a good night's Charms work solved most of those problems; and he always stayed with his friends. He had always gone with Lily. Not because he liked her or anything, but because she was the only girl who would go with him and he knew how she never really liked his other friends. Recently, though, something about her had caught his eye, and he was starting to see her in a different sort of light. Maybe he fancied her, like Regulus teased.

He always had fun at the Ball, mostly because Dumbledore always booked a different band and this one was one Severus liked. He was dancing with Lily—as friends, he sternly told himself—to a very fast song. She almost tripped on her robes before Severus pulled her up. They went and sat down with his Slytherin friends who, after a death-glare from Severus, welcomed Lily. None of them had any empty glasses in front of them besides Regulus, who had had quite a few and was slurring slightly. Avery pushed him down in his seat after he tried to get up and ask a girl he liked to dance.

The band started up a very slow song and the dance floor was promptly deserted by fourth- and fifth-years, leaving only the older couples and Black and his most recent girl—Something Brown. Regulus was shoved in his seat again, told by Avery that Regulus's older brother might yank them apart; it was not exactly a secret that Sirius Black, while officially hating his younger brother, was protective of his snogging habits. No one forgot the year Regulus snuck into last year's Ball and had far too much drink. Regulus claimed that his eardrums were never the same. "Yeah, well, neither are ours," Severus said. "Your brother can scream better than your mum." He had spent the Easter holidays there once; Mrs. Black didn't like the fact he was a half-blood.

Narcissa was picking at her drink irritably; her boyfriend had graduated the year before and she was a year younger than him. Avery was watching an older Ravenclaw appreciatively. Little Barty Crouch Junior, a friend of Regulus's who had been told how to sneak in, was only a second-year and was staring at his full glass of contaminated Butterbeer, clearly debating whether or not he should drink it. Lily was watching the couples dancing absently, talking to Narcissa every now and then, and swaying to the music, whispering the lyrics. Barty downed his drink and stared at the table, as though waiting for it to explode.

Severus had no idea what he was supposed to do. Should he ask Lily to dance and get murdered by Potter? Should he just sit and talk quietly to her, knowing that she didn't like his Slytherin friends very much—well, except Regulus, but almost everyone liked him. He felt his hands start to sweat; he rubbed them together, breathing hard. Why was it so difficult to say the words, "Do you want to dance?"? Even "Dance?" would be good enough! He took a deep breath and was about to ask when the worst thing possible happened.

Potter. As he came towards them he straightened his glasses and adjusted his dress robes, smirking slightly. "Hey, Evans, you want—?"

"No," said Lily, sounding almost bored. "I'd rather dance with Hagrid."

Potter's mouth dropped open; Hagrid was known for stepping harshly (and accidentally) on his partner's feet with the weight of several small elephants.

"If you're waiting for Lily to shove her tongue down your throat, you'll be waiting a long time," said Severus viciously, who smirked as Potter's look of shock changed to one of deepest loathing. Lily turned slightly green but let out a laugh, as did the other Slytherins.

"What did you do to get Evans to come with _you_?" Potter's tone changed from the more polite, mature one he used with Lily to one that offered contempt and hatred in every syllable. "Confund her?"

"I asked," said Severus simply. "Once."

"Evans, just get rid of this Slytherin scum," Potter said, stuck between trying to be kind to Lily and sneering to Severus. He was apparently unaware that he had just insulted not just Severus but Slytherin house in front of five not-so-rational of its occupants. "I'll never ask again."

"Nope." This time it was not Lily but Regulus who answered. "Why do you have to such a foul-mouthed, arrogant git, Potter?" he asked innocently.

Everyone laughed at that. "Took the words right out of my mouth," said Severus.

Potter blushed but hurried back to Lupin, launching into a story instantly. Lupin just stared at the dancers, looking rather bored and tired, an empty glass in his hand.

With that laugh to break the tension, Severus was sure he could ask Lily. After all, Potter could, why not him?

"Hey, Lils—" he started eagerly. The second worst thing happened as he spoke.

The song stopped, to be replaced by one much faster.

"Yeah?" said Lily, turning to him, still smiling. "Sev?"

"Never mind."

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**This one I'm very fond of, too. The Marauders' Yule Balls, I think, would have a sort of prank like this.**


	9. Three Words

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, never have, never will.

All of these are for the **Skeletons in the closet** challenge on HPFC forum. The things in bold are the prompts. Have fun!

**Summery: **Sirius tells Harry of his younger brother, Regulus, but is actually wondering what happened the last night he saw him. The night Regulus leaves to get the Horcrux.

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**_I wish you would just say those three words._**

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_"My idiot brother, soft enough to believe them..." Sirius felt a little part of him rebuke his words but he still pointed at the tree, so Harry could see. "That's him, there. He was younger than me and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded..." __A much larger part of Sirius rebuked the disgusted tone and he looked around at the drawing room, remembering the last time he stood in it. He wondered what Regulus had done before he, Sirius, had turned up..._

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"KREACHER!" bellowed Regulus as he slammed the door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place behind him. His parents were out—probably still at Cissy's housewarming party. Regulus had left early, the words of the Dark Lord pounding in his head as he finally worked them out.

_"... I have put measurements in place to ensure my immortality..."_

Horcrux. Every powerful Dark wizard—every serious one, at least—had a Horcrux but with the Dark Lord's means and seriousness, Regulus wouldn't be surprised to discover he had several. That was what the locket was. He knew where one was; it was his duty to destroy it. If he didn't, no one would...

The house-elf appeared with a loud _crack_. He bowed low, shaking slightly; Regulus had never been this angry. "Yes, Master—?"

"The cave," he panted. "The cave with the glowing green potion in it—_where is it_?"

Surprised, the elf didn't say anything. "Master?"

"The cave—the locket! Where—is—it?" shouted Regulus, running to his bedroom to find a suitable replacement. He found the locket Andromeda had given him when she had run off, back when he had Sirius to believe in him and when he was too young to properly understand the gravity of the Dark Side. He ran a finger over it gently. It had the initials AB on the back. Well, she would be happy he found a use for it.

"I can take you there, sir," said Kreacher, still confused but now more sure of the situation.

"I also—" Regulus broke off. He was about to tell Kreacher to fetch his older brother. Could he, though? Would Sirius come or would Kreacher have to beat him into submission? He sat on his bed. Sirius was a member of the Order; Regulus was a Death Eater, something he still hadn't told him. It had been a long time but he didn't want to break their already fractured relationship. Their parents had settled it with Bellatrix as a sixteenth birthday present and Regulus had been too scared to say no. Would the Dark Lord slaughter the families of those who didn't join?

According to Kreacher, the potion would make you thirsty and then the only water would be the lake, tripping the Inferi. Regulus couldn't let Kreacher go through that again, so he would have to do it himself. The thought of death didn't scare him in the slightest: this was something worth dying for. Maybe it was a latent Gryffindor trait from his brother, but Regulus had always wanted to die _for_ something, not _from_ something. This would be definitely for something. The Dark Lord's destruction.

Regulus pulled a piece of parchment and wrote on his knee.

_To the Dark Lord,_

_I know I will be dead long before you read this_

_but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret_

_I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can._

_I face death in the hope that when you meet your match,_

_you will be mortal once more._

_R. A. B._

He wanted to add something about cruelty to house-elves is never profitable but he ran out of room.

"Kreacher," he said softly. "Bring my brother here. I don't care if you have to knock him out and drag him, but bring Sirius back here."

With a low bow that bent his nose to the floors, Kreacher said, "Yes, sir," and Disapparated with another loud _crack._

Regulus folded the note and tightly wedged it in the locket, tucking it in his pocket and walking downstairs. He started to pace in the drawing room, the locket and note weighing heavy in his pocket. It felt as though he were carrying a bomb around instead of metal and parchment. His throat felt dry; he didn't know what to say. But then, far too soon for his liking, Kreacher came back, clinging onto Sirius's back like an oddly shaped backpack and yanking his hair.

"Get off me!" Sirius shouted, trying to pull him off. "I saw enough of you before! Mum and Dad can't want me back _that _badly. You bloody house—Regulus?" he asked, confused. He stopped trying to brutalize their house-elf.

"Hi, big brother," Regulus whispered, sitting down.

This time having more success, Sirius launched the house-elf out the door and magically locked it. "What do you want?" He didn't say it harshly or cruelly; he still sounded very curious and more than a little concerned.

"I need to tell you two things," said Regulus. "But I think that after I say the first, you'll run out of here and never hear me out."

"Then tell me the second one," said Sirius, turning around to inspect the tapestry. "Look at that! I'm finally blasted off!" he said gleefully. It was always his ambition to get off the Black Family tapestry.

"If I tell you the second, you'll ask how I know it and... that's the first," Regulus said weakly. "Let's get the worst one over with, then." He, with trembling fingers, unbuttoned the row he had going down his arm, securely holding the horrid Dark Mark from view. When he had it exposed, Regulus whispered, "Sirius, turn round."

"What?" Sirius asked, annoyed now. He was still looking at the tapestry. "Uncle Alphard's off now, too. Left me gold for a house, that's why I guess."

"Sirius!" shouted Regulus, his voice trembling as badly as his hands. "Look at me!"

"What?" he asked again, turning around. "What's wr—?"

Sirius saw the Dark Mark. He literally froze. For a long time, he didn't say anything.

Regulus decided to break the silence. In a slow, old voice that startled him, he said, "Mum and Dad arranged it with Bellatrix."

Still nothing. He pulled up and rebuttoned his sleeve. He didn't think he could say the proper words.

"Three years ago," added Regulus, now feeling as scared as he did when he had been caught snogging his girlfriend by Sirius and had to endure over an hour of Sirius shouting at him. He had a feeling a similar screaming match was coming.

He watched carefully as Sirius's mind thawed out enough for maths. "Th-three years—three years ago?" he stuttered, rage in every letter as his face twisted with fury.

Regulus looked at the floor. "For my birthday."

"Your birthday's in June," Sirius said dully, his hands balled into trembling fists, but his shakes were from anger, not fear or disgust. "June. I was—I was still here," he said, horrified. "You were at school! YOU WERE STILL AT SCHOOL!"

Regulus flinched and almost fell but had a retaliation. "You were sixteen when you ran off!" He couldn't help the accusatory tone in his voice.

Sirius suddenly looked a little guilty. "So, it's _my_ fault? You can't stand a year without me before signing up for murder?"

"No, I'm saying that when we were sixteen we both—we both—we both were in a steady direction," said Regulus evasively.

"You mean taking control of our lives?" asked Sirius, sneering.

"No!" shouted Regulus. And before he knew what was going on, he was saying everything he always wanted to—at the worst time possible. "Since you went to Hogwarts, you've never cared for me! Since you fell in with those Marauders, you've never talked to me! Since you stopped giving a damn about what happened to me, I've been trying dozens of times to make you proud, to make you notice but YOU'VE NEVER LOOKED!"

Sirius backed away, paling. "That's not—"

"THAT'S THE TRUTH, SIRIUS! What about stopping Mother on your birthday? What about the surly Slytherins who couldn't have a house-to-house duelling match? What about seeing to it that Snape didn't feed Little Barty Crouch to your werewolf friend? What about mocking Snape in front of you? Did you never wonder what the bloody hell I was doing? I was trying to get you to open your eyes!

"That's the actual truth, and you became just as bad as Bellatrix at school, doing what you've always told me not to: make fun of people for no reason! What the hell did Severus Snape ever do to _you? _This"—he gestured at his left arm furiously—"isn't your fault, but I'm damn sure you would've taken me with you when you ran off. I'm damn sure you could've talked Mum and Dad out of it, leaving them screaming at you—something you invited every night!—WITHOUT MAKING ME A DEATH EATER! I NEVER WANTED THIS! IF YOU CAN UNDERSTAND THAT, THEN LISTEN TO WHAT I'VE GOT TO SAY!"

Sirius blinked, unnerved by the outburst. "If I remember correctly, I asked you to come with me," he whispered.

"What?" screeched Regulus, his nerves taught from his rant, breathing heavily.

"Kreach—" He stopped mid-word. "Damned house-elf. I was packing and Mum said she'd Crucio me if I left my room. Didn't put it past her so I sent Kreacher with a note. You never got it," he said dully.

Regulus screamed, "KREACHER!" at the top of his lungs.

The house-elf appeared and bowed low to both brothers. "Yes—?"

"On July seventeenth, nineteen seventy-six, did Sirius give you a message for me?" asked Regulus coldly.

Kreacher shuffled his long feet. "If Master Regulus had left, Mistress Black would never have forgiven Kreacher for she gave Kreacher orders to never let Master Regulus disgrace the Black name."

"Give me the note," snapped Regulus, holding out his hand. He didn't even feel guilty about how he was treating Kreacher, who he had always liked like a pet.

Kreacher bowed and held out a folded piece of parchment he pulled from the side of his leg.

Regulus broke the seal and suspiciously said, "Why didn't you just chuck it?"

"I jinxed it: the idiot couldn't let go of it unless you were holding the other side," said Sirius sadly.

"Good ji—" Regulus froze, reading the note. It was hurried and blotched, but Sirius's handwriting was recognisable.

_Yeah, it's me. Listen, I'm running away. _

_I can't take Mum and Dad anymore. Mum actually threatened to Crucio me if I left my room—that's why I sent this with Kreacher. Nice mother._

_I know you love them, but I'm not coming back and I'm scared of what they'll do to you when I'm gone. So pack everything—and I mean everything—and come to my room, broomstick in hand. We can fly out my window. I already checked: it's big enough._

_If you don't want to come, fine then. I'll see you at school but I've cleared it with James (using your owl, hope you don't mind) and he's got the other bedroom ready with two beds for us. It's all set. _

_I'll stay in this house for another twenty minutes, if you haven't come by then, I'm leaving and I'll never darken your doorstep again._

_Sirius_

Regulus was shaking, tears falling. "I should give you clothes, you idiot," he snarled, throwing the note on the floor.

Kreacher left with a loud _crack_. It certainly wasn't a good night for him.

Sirius was pacing, a hand on his head as though something had come loose while Regulus had shouted. Regulus knew he was beating himself up, that he hadn't put a Disillusion Charm on himself or risked being Crucioed by their mother.

"I need to sit down," Sirius said abruptly, holding a hand to his head. He backed into the wall and slid down, banging his head against the name Draco Malfoy. "I—you were sixteen, just turned. I know he's a manic but—_sixteen?"_

Regulus slid down next to him. "You can keep saying that but it's not going to stop being true. I became a Death Eater on June the thirtieth and there's nothing either of us can do to change that but—"

"You can't apologise," Sirius said flatly.

Regulus blinked. He was actually going to say that they could put it to use. "I'm not—"

"You're not sorry?" exploded Sirius, disbelieving. "No matter what, you're a Death Eater. You were one for years before deciding to tell me; why?" Before Regulus could open his mouth, Sirius answered his own question, disgust dripping from his words, "Because you _loved _it. You enjoyed being part of something big. I thought I taught you better—you're—you listened to Mum and Dad. You actually _did_!" he shouted and leapt to his feet. "I'm working day and night, around the clock—like a bloody house-elf to undo everything you and your little friends are doing and stop your _great_ master! You need to see the faces of the relatives and friends of those who've disappeared or have been kill—I DON'T CARE IF YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHAT YOU WERE GETTING INTO!" he roared as Regulus opened his mouth.

He let Sirius rant and rave, much the same as when Sirius and their parents would fight while Regulus was in his room, determined to ignore what was making his eardrums and heart throb painfully.

Eventually, Regulus got sick of it and shouted over him. "YOU'RE EXACTLY LIKE BELLATRIX!" They were the only words sure to get Sirius's attention. They did.

Sirius froze. "What?" he said, his voice like the crack of a whip.

"You and her—you've both sunk down to the same levels. You might not be torturing people; you aren't that sadistic, but if I remember right, Severus Snape once said you tried to feed him to a werewolf." Sirius shuffled uncomfortably. Regulus groaned. "I'll let that slide. But, just like you, Bellatrix has a black-and-white view of the world. Neither of you stop and look at the person, just one thing like their blood or what's on their left arm can decide if you hate them or not."

"Generally people who have black snakes on their arms, I don't trust!" snapped Sirius. "And this is war: people change."

"Exactly, do you not think I could've changed? That I could've become a better person since you left me? That I might just live up to my name?" It had become a family in-joke: Regulus was the brightest star in the Lion constellation but it was his brother who was Gryffindor. "That I might be stupidly, recklessly brave enough to do something half-way decent with _this_"—he pointed to his left arm again—"and _not_ get killed?"

"Yeah," Sirius said. Regulus's heart lifted. "You could've, but you never would."

Sirius was about to run out when Regulus took drastic measures.

He flicked his wand and Sirius's legs sprung together. Overbalanced, he toppled over. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he shouted, searching for his own wand.

Another flick from Regulus's and Sirius's wand sprung from his hand. Disarmed, Sirius propped himself up on his elbows and looked at his brother with upmost dislike. "What?" he asked testily. "I'm in a bit of a hurry. James had this huge announcement."

Regulus snorted. "He probably knocked up Evans—no, Lily." Regulus smirked, remembering Snape's look of horror when he told him that they were engaged.

Sirius let out a laugh and smiled. "No, James doesn't want any kids. Too dangerous in wartime, you know." Then what he said caught up and there wasn't anything left that reminded Regulus of what it was like before Sirius ran off from home. "A wartime _you_ lot caused. A wartime that has killed loads of people and caused more injuries and heartache than you can imagine. Shall I give you names?" he asked sarcastically.

Merlin, no, thought Regulus hard. Shut it, please.

"Gideon and Fabian Prewett: brothers, slaughtered by Antonin Dolohov, whole thing took hours. Edgar, Maurice, Damien and Jack Bones: entire family was killed brutally. Marlene, Andrew, Pearl and Grace McKinnon: killed by Travers. Benjamin Fenwick: blown to smithereens, we're still looking for his body. Caradoc Dearborn: disappeared months ago, Moody says just give up. Dorcas Meadowes: killed by Lord Voldemort in person."

Regulus flinched slightly at the name but he was too preoccupied with the faces he remembered; the boys and girls from school who were now dead or worse. "Stop!" Regulus wouldn't have minded if Sirius kept shouting at him; that would've been easier. But this cold, calm voice as he listed as his friends that were killed was worse.

"What's the matter?" sneered Sirius. "Have a problem hearing what your little friends do? 'Cause I've got loads more that don't involve deaths."

"I've never—I _would_ never—!"

"Never what?" snapped Sirius as he tried to get to his feet. "You'd cave under threat of death—we both know that—and who knows what you'd do. Torture and kill, mainly. You won't be able to just sit in on meetings!"

"Yeah, well, I've found some bloody useful information by sitting in on meetings!" shouted Regulus out of aggravation.

Sirius paused, looking at him in shock. "What?"

Regulus bent down, level with his brother. He felt warmth gather somewhere behind his eyes and his throat thicken; everything Sirius had said was completely right, and right now he needed only one thing. "Sirius," he said desperately, "I need you to do something for me. I need you to say three words. Just three."

"Look, Reg," started an exasperated Sirius, "I'm not sorry for leaving home; it never _was_ my home."

"No," said Regulus, performing the counter-curse and allowing Sirius to stand. Standing, Sirius was quite a bit taller but Regulus still tried to look him in the eye. " 'I forgive you.' Say that, _please_."

Sirius looked at him for a moment but said, "I'm not sorry," and left.

"Wait one bloody minute!" shouted Regulus, marching out and grabbing Sirius's arm so he couldn't Disapparte. Just like the night Sirius left for good, it was pouring a cold rain that froze and drenched both of the brothers to the bone.

"What do you want?" screamed Sirius, causing a stray cat to shoot out from under a bench in fright.

"I want you to—for once in your life—_listen to me_," Regulus said, now dangerously close to crying. He lost his brother once, he wasn't going to again. "If you aren't going to accept my apology"—a disgusted snort from Sirius was a good enough answer—"then I want you to listen to my other news."

"What, that you did your first kill?" The hatred on Sirius's face made Regulus stumble a little.

"I know how to kill the Dark Lord."

Sirius fell silent for a moment and Regulus thought he had done it, that his brother could hear him, that Sirius would be able to know that he wasn't the useless, pure-blood-loving brother he thought he was. But that delusion was shattered by a cold laugh from Sirius.

"That's not a very good lie," he said between laughter. "Has Voldemort really lowered his standards to _this?_ That's good, 'cause then we'll win the war in a month. Voldemort has—"

"Horcruxes," said Regulus darkly.

There was another quiet moment while Sirius processed that one word. They had both once upon a time looked at the old Dark Arts books.

"He's got loads, and I know where one is," Regulus continued in a low voice.

"That's an even worse lie. Why would Voldemort trust _you_ with one of the locations?" asked Sirius scathingly but now with a spark of interest.

"I—I found out. Kreacher told me."

In retrospect, Regulus knew he should've explained himself a little better and not said that the family house-elf had told him.

Sirius wrenched his arm free but didn't bother to Disapparate. He was glaring at Regulus in outraged astonishment. "Let me get this straight," he said in a deadly voice, "you were barely sixteen and on the first day of holidays you—you got the Dark Mark." Regulus nodded. "You've done absolutely no horrible, awful, I'm-going-to-kill-you-for things." Regulus nodded. "And the foul family house-elf told you a location for a Horcrux of Voldemort?"

"Yes," said Regulus. "And I—Ahh!" He clutched his left arm. The Dark Mark was burning. "Not _now!"_

"Go on and answer the call," said Sirius. Some flicker of emotion crossed his face before it reverted to neutral. "I hate you, you know that? But my brother—the one I knew at this house—was the only good Slytherin I've ever met. He was a great person, maybe a little bit of a mother's boy but no one's perfect. You're not him."

With those last words, Sirius turned on his heel and Disapparated, leaving a stunned and hurt Regulus standing in the rain, his tears undistinguishable from the raindrops.

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**This one's my favourite so please don't be too harsh :)**

**But do tell me if you like it.**


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